"I love to see a snowdrop
Ahanging on a tree,
Aglistening in the sunshine
As happy as can be."
"Great red-headed snakes!" burst out Jack. "Andy has turned poet!"
"Don't you think you ought to take something for it, Andy? Cough mixture, or measles eradicator, or something like that?" questioned Fred.
"I think what he needs is a good dose of codliver oil, served hot," came from Gif.
"No codliver oil for me!" cried the fun-loving Rover. "You deal that out to Spouter. It will help oil his tongue and make his flow of oratory better."
"Speaking of cough mixtures, I think I'll get a bottle of some sort when we get to Timminsport if they have a drugstore," said Jack. "Some of us may catch cold and need it."
With such talk going on, the journey continued. They were now running for a small station named Enwood, where they were to pick up two extra cars from a small side road coming down from the north. In this section there was a good deal of snow, and the train, consequently, had to run rather slowly.
"I think I could get out and walk almost as fast as this train is moving," remarked Spouter presently.
"It isn't as bad as that, Spouter," returned Jack, looking out of the window. "We are making at least fifteen miles an hour, and you couldn't hoof it as quick as that."
"It certainly seems awfully slow," remarked Fred. He was beginning to grow sleepy, and now he rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes.